Project for Improvement
by BenjaminWilliam
Summary: Faberry / Quinn is a pokémon trainer throwing herself into battles to hide from the fact that she has no friends; Rachel Berry is determined to show her that there is more to life than fighting.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I said I wouldn't start a new multi-chapter. Obviously, I lied. But I just couldn't say no to this story, and I hope you guys enjoy it. Pokémon and Glee may seem like an odd combination, but hopefully it'll be one that works well. If you'd like to leave me a quick review to let me know if it is, that would be amazing.

Very few things came as second nature to Quinn Fabray – particularly not the activities that her parents longed for her to thrive at. The hobbies Mr and Mrs Fabray had given their seal of approval were far from appealing to sixteen-year-old girl. Cooking, they said, would impress the young men of Lima and have them falling over each other in a desperate bid for her hand – they were half right: the young men of Lima _were_ falling over each other…in gales of laughter, as they watched smoke billow out of every window and door in the Fabray house and cast their eyes over the charred Charmander Chilli Chews that the then fourteen-year-old had flung out onto the lawn in disgust. Her mother had just stopped programming the recipes into her PokéGear after that.

Their next suggestion was music, the only one that Quinn didn't struggle to find an interest in. Down from the attic came an old, exquisitely carved case containing her long dead grandmother's now antique PokéFlute. Music was something that the teenager found she could lose herself in, and her parents were only too pleased to have her lost. For a month, it was perfect - for a month, Quinn painstakingly taught herself everything there was to know of the small wooden instrument. In the space of two weeks, she could slur her way through three octaves - backwards, if you asked nicely - and was already well on her way to perfecting the art of flutter tonguing. If the Fabrays were pleased for their daughter to have a nice, respectable hobby then they were nothing short of ecstatic when they found it could be put to use and shown off to the entire community.

"A snorlax outside the town hall!" Russell had cried, with far more gusto than the situation warranted, "Did you hear that Judy? A snorlax!"

And so Quinn was marched out, PokéFlute in hand, to face the sleeping pokémon. As it turned out, Snorlax didn't like the pop-punk melodies of Luxrays Ate My Baby: instead of moving from his spot as expected, he instead slumped back, lulling his head onto the pillow he had made of the town hall, which now crumbled and cracked under his pressure. When Quinn was marched back, it was much less glorious.

In a final attempt to find themselves a normal daughter, her parents forced her to take up swimming - even trading away her father's prized Electabuzz in exchange for a hulking, foreboding Tentacruel. Quinn didn't _like_ Tentacruel. The steely gaze he always cast in her direction suggested that he wasn't her biggest fan either. Eventually, upon returning home in a startling combination of frazzled and bedraggled in appearance, even Russell and Judy Fabray -masters of ignorance- couldn't deny that this pokémon had taken an unmistakeable dislike to the young blonde girl they called a daughter. As Michael made his way to the Global Trade Centre in Goldenrod, he didn't think he could blame him.

Quinn had always been a difficult child. Well, Quinn had always been told she was a difficult child. The truth was, Quinn had difficult parents. They expected too much from her - they wanted her to be good at the things that they were, the things had made their own parents practically quake with pride. So far, the only thing Quinn had found an aptitude for (besides the PokéFlute that was promptly taken from her after the Snorlax incident) was pokémon training. Her pokémon grew more experienced by the second, picking up six new moves in the time it took her classmates' to master one.

Luxray, her unofficial favourite, was the one that her teacher liked to keep a close watch on. Every day that she walked into the academy in Violet City, jumping off her bike and chaining it to a nearby pole (her parents refused to pay for a foldaway bike) Mr Schuester's eyes seemed to light up in wonder. "Must be near level 56 now, eh, Quinn?" he would say, grinning as he ruffled the patch of hair on the electric-type's chest. The pupil would nod, although she didn't really care for levels - she didn't need a number to tell her her pokémon was strong, superior to all others she had met. He was her best friend - of course she knew that.

Today was no different, Mr Schue singing the praises of the pokémon he gazed at longingly. Quinn could tell he thought Luxray was wasted on her. She could tell that he thought, along with his peers, that she pushed him too hard and would amount to nothing more than a pokémon bullying Rocket grunt. They didn't see Luxray play tig with her all throughout the house while they anxiously eyed the door to see if Russell and Judy were home. They didn't see him nuzzle her hand under the table at school as her face fell when her classmates left her out - again. They didn't see the special bond that she shared with her pokémon. But she didn't mind that. She didn't need them, any of them - this time next year she would be the pokémon league champion and send all of these people away with fits of tears and wounded pokémon.

Judy Fabray didn't like this ambition - she said that a desire to crush people's dreams was far from ladylike. Quinn laughed coldly at the hypocrisy. Russell stated simply, when his wife told him of their daughter's plans, that as long as she no longer lived at home he didn't really care. Well, that was fine she thought sullenly, slouching down in her window seat at school. It wasn't like she needed them anyway. She didn't need people - she needed pokémon.

The teacher had been droning for ten minutes when chocolate brown eyes darted towards her from the front of class, and Quinn's own rose to meet them for the briefest of seconds. Then the other girl moved her gaze and attention back towards the teacher, leaving the blonde to ponder idly why one of the most popular girls in school was catching her eye in class. Rachel, she remembered her name as. Stupid perfect Rachel, who did everything right and whose parents were proud of her and supported her every endeavour. Perfect Rachel who got the attention of half of the boys in class - the ones her mother had told her she could have, once upon a time. Quinn sighed quietly to herself, now redirecting her glare from the back of the other girl's head to the world outside her window. From here, she could see the tower, a hulking mass that cast a shadow that almost reached the very seat she sat in. A few ghastleys floated their way around the building, weaving an intricate dance amongst the pillars and beams and the teenager watched with interest. _'That,'_ she thought to herself sullenly, _'is where I can learn about pokémon. Not here.'_

A wet nose against her palm brought her back to reality, and she glanced beneath the desk to find her Luxray gazing up at her knowingly. Automatically, she flattened her palm against his head, running her hands through the course dark hair that sprouted all over his body. He gave a slight whine of contentment, and she shushed him as quietly as she could while looking up to see if Mr Schuester had heard - the man carried on unperturbed, rambling on about Weedles and Caterpies and the properties of an antidote. Did he think they were five?

She found her attention flickering back to Rachel periodically, whom she was surprised to find was taking notes now that the teacher had moved onto the more complex parts of the day's lesson. Really, there was something she _didn't_ know? All the class did was express enthusiasm for her vast knowledge. Quite frankly, it got on Quinn's nerves. Other people knew things too - just not everyone felt the need to voice absolutely every "interesting" fact they had learned, and instead simply stored it for future use. Other people like Quinn.

The blonde now glanced at the pen in her own hand, one had that had not graced the notebook in front of her with any words. She set it down on top of the lined paper, deciding that, having zoned out of more than half of the lesson, it really wasn't worth starting to listen now. Instead, she devoted the remainder of her time to stroking the pokémon settled comfortably between her knees.

After what felt like an eternity for Quinn, the lecture was over and she was free to go outside and breathe some fresh air. She was still debating internally whether or not to come back after break, when she knew there would be a group of trainers by the water in New Bark Town raring for a battle at this time. Just as she was about to grab her bags and use the interval as a cover for her leaving, she heard a voice above her and she looked up to meet the same eyes as she had earlier.

"I, um, made a copy of some notes for you. Just in case you wanted to learn more about it – there are footnotes of additional information that I thought you might," the girl's flurry of words stopped, as though she had just noticed that Quinn was glaring openly at her, and she finished weakly, "…find interesting."

As the words the other girl said registered, Quinn's eyes furrowed into a frown that she directed first at the notecards and then to Rachel. What did this girl think she was, some charity case? She tried not to give a visible reaction to her classmate, but the way she stood abruptly blatantly betrayed her annoyance. Picking up the notes from her desk, she thrust them back into Rachel's chest and allowed them to flutter to the floor as she released them. "I don't need your help." Her lips almost betrayed her with a smile as she saw Rachel's mouth drop open in shock at her unabashed rudeness. She hiked her rucksack higher onto her shoulder and let a defiant hand settle on her hip. "Okay?"

After a few brief seconds to evaluate the girl opposite her Quinn turned to walk both away from her and away from the classroom. As she did so, the school bell rang, signalling the end of the five minute break and the teacher requested that they all take their seats.

"Great." Quinn grumbled, casting a dark look at Rachel while she slumped back into her seat, "Just fucking great." It looked like she would be saying for the after-break lessons after all.

The trainer watched with a sour expression as the other girl offered a diluted smile followed by a sheepish, "Sorry." For a brief second, she almost a small sliver of remorse for snapping so harshly at a girl who had only tried to do something nice for her - and then the second was over, and her steely demeanour was swiftly back in place.

"Just keep them, yes? It's no problem," the brunette continued to ramble, despite Quinn's obvious annoyance at her presence and the notes she had tried to pass on. Rachel still left the papers on her desk and insisted again -irritatingly- that she kept them. The blonde grumbled a reluctant agreement and scooped the papers, unread, into her bag. "You can thank me later!" was called back in a sing-song voice as the perfect student found her seat at the front of the class.

Quinn's eyes didn't find the other girl again until a figure at her desk caught her eye, and Rachel's too she imagined. She watched with mild interest as Rachel's cheeks pinked, in an oddly cute fashion, as Finn Hudson left a note on her desk; she then forced her eyes away. The very last thing she needed was this girl in her life, messing things up. She didn't care if Finn was professing his love for Rachel Berry by note in class – although she doubted he could even spell 'love'. Still, she didn't care. She _didn't_. The whole "liking girls" thing was something she was trying to purge her system of, before her parents managed to get their hands on the information. Inviting a girl to be close to her was _not_ working it out of her system. Still, she couldn't help but feel -just the teensiest, tiniest bit- that this wasn't something she could cure. Maybe she just had to accept life as a..._lesbian_. God, she hated that word. No, she wouldn't do it. No matter how many irresistibly cute girls passed lecture notes her way, she would not succumb to this...this _sin_. But, there was no harm in looking - was there?

And so look she did, for the remainder of the lesson, the teacher's imparted wisdom falling upon deaf ears. Rachel, she deducted (purely for analytical reasons), was reasonably attractive. A good few inches shy of herself, hair a gorgeous chestnut brown to combat her own blonde locks, eyes a warm shade of brown rather than her own steely gaze of hazel - everything about her just exuded warmth and comfort, a sharp contrast to the cool exterior that Quinn showed the world. As the class ended, Quinn quickly averted her eyes from the unknowing subject of her gaze; she leaned back, cracking her knuckles, and made a point of showing no interest in anyone in the classroom - particularly not a certain brunette suck-up.

"I know we don't know each other very well," the other girl started and Quinn snorted derisively.

"And don't you think there's a reason for that?" the blonde asked and again, she stood to find said brunette suck-up looking at her and again offering kind words.

"We don't know each other," Rachel continued, as though Quinn hadn't spoken, but the blonde could see that her open hostility had shaken a girl who was used to only kindness from the world. _Maybe,_ Quinn thought, _I'm the harsh reality check that she needs. _"But, I think it would be nice if we did get to know each other. Don't you?"

Silently, Quinn approved. Silently, she liked that Rachel was willing to try so hard to befriend her. Outwardly, she showed nothing but indifference and began grabbing her things and shoving them into her bag to actually get to leave for once. "Not really, no."

"Come on, what harm could it do? I know for a fact you have no other friends." Almost instantly, Rachel's hand clapped across her mouth – she hadn't meant to say that. Quinn hoped she didn't notice the brief flash of hurt that had flittered across her face. She didn't care what Rachel said, she didn't care that she had no friends – she just didn't care, goddamnit. "I'm sorry, Quinn, I didn't-"

"Don't say you didn't mean it," Quinn interrupted snappily, "we both know damn well you did." She glowered at her companion and then shook her head. "It's true anyway, isn't it?" the blonde continued with a flippant shrug – if Rachel noticed the hurt in her tone she knew better than to mention it. "So, is that all you wanted to tell me? That no one likes me? Got that memo, thanks."

"I like you." The words were open, honest as were the muddy depths of her fellow pupil's eyes when she glanced up to meet them.

"You don't even know me," Quinn argued, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she did so.

"But I think we've covered that I'd like to, don't you?" Rachel said, her voice bordering on exasperation – the first emotion other than kindness that Quinn had heard from her today. "Please, Quinn."

"Why does it mean so much to you?" Quinn questioned, looking past Rachel to the door that she is so desperate to leave through. She didn't miss the shifty, guilt-stricken look that appeared fleetingly on the other girl's features when she turned her attention back.

"I think there's more to you than other people give you credit for, Quinn. They just need to scratch the surface." Something about the words touched Quinn – not so much that she wants to befriend Rachel, but enough to leave her more open to the idea. When she next looked to the other girl, a thoughtful look had spread across her features.

"Tell you what," she said, gesturing for Rachel to follow her from the classroom, "we'll have a battle. Right now." She nodded, deciding for herself that this was the best course of action. "If I win," _'Which I will,'_ she added in her head, "then you will back the hell off and leave me alone. And if _you_ win, I'll go on a little...friend date or whatever with you. Agreed?" Then, without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Good."

"Wait, what? A battle? Quinn, do you really think that's the best course of action? Surely there is some other, non-violent, way we could resolve this issue?"

"No. There isn't," Quinn answered simply. "You battle me, or you don't. Your choice."

"I still think-"

"I don't care what you think."

"But, but, a battle-"

"Yes, a battle," Quinn shot back almost mockingly, "That is what we breed pokémon for, right?" The question was blatantly rhetorical - of course that was what pokémon were bred for. As she listened to the rest of what Rachel had to say, the blonde found that her hand strayed instinctively to the cool metal of the balls strapped to her waist, itching to throw one to the centre of the miniature stadium they now stood at the entrance of.

"I don't know…" Rachel said, biting her lip, "maybe we could just talk it out over tea?"

"'Talk it out over _tea_?' Are you eighty?" Quinn demanded, annoyed that Rachel seemed so against her idea.

"Don't you think your pokémon get tired fighting all the time?" Rachel accused, "They need to rest, Quinn!"

Her annoyance then escalated to fully-blown anger, her eyebrows narrowing at the suggestion that she didn't treat her pokémon fairly. Her fists clenched, her jaw set rigidly and she had to remind herself that it was pokémon that were supposed to fight - it didn't make the over-whelming urge to hurt the perfect pupil in front of her any less. She could, however, inflict a great deal of damage to her pokémon with ease.

Quinn knew that other people hailed Rachel as the best trainer in the class - Quinn also knew that they were wrong. When it came to raising her pokémon, moulding them into the perfect warriors and companions, she was superior. There was no doubt in her mind, even though there was a lot in everyone else's when it came to Quinn Fabray. She didn't understand why everyone looked down on her so much, putting the dampener on her dreams and aspirations - what had she done in the past to make people believe she was incapable? That she was the bad seed of the academy, besmirching its name? Internally, she found the irritating voice of wisdom telling her that Rachel hadn't said such a thing yet.

"Well, I didn't mean just _your _pokémon of course!" the brunette tried to backtrack, "Everyone's pokémon should rest! _In fact_, my pokémon should rest too! I bet they're famished, sitting in the pokéball while I'm busy all day exercising my grey matter! Don't you think? And anyway, maybe our pokémon would like to be friends!"

Sick of listening to the other girl try to dig herself out of the hole she had just dug for herself, Quinn found her infuriation with her grew even further. "A battle. _Now_." The words came out almost as a snarl, followed by a growl of, "Or you can just go, and leave me alone - without trying." She sneered at the shorter girl. "How..." the teen made a show of searching for the right word, finally saying, with as much venom as she could muster, "_pathetic_."

Her eyes strayed over the other girl as she waited to see if Rachel would take the bait. Despite herself, she found that she quietly approved of what she saw. A lean, not quite svelte figure and big puppy dog eyes that were sure to melt even the coldest of hearts - well, Quinn would be damned before it thawed her's.

"Fine," Rachel retorted, pulling herself up to her full height -which wasn't particularly high-, "fine. I'll show you how a real trainer battles." She unhooks a ball from her belt and throws it to the middle of the arena, "Go, Jolteon!" Despite the authority in her voice, she didn't look particularly at ease with the situation.

Watching Rachel Berry's obvious discomfort, Quinn allowed a small smirk to flit across her face before turning to the Luxray standing at her side. She knelt to her pokemon, running a hand across its head - a gesture he knew to be loving. "Okay, Luxray, you can do this. Take that stupid little furball out." She then stood, watching her pokémon saunter to its starter line and settle its haunches. A glance at her opponent and a deep breath later, and Quinn was ready to call her first command.

"Luxray, _thunderfang_!"

The teenager looked on in awe as Luxray did nothing of the sort. "Thunderfang!" she repeated, her voice even sharper."_Thunderfang!_" Nothing, not even a glance of recognition from the pokémon in the arena. From her place on the other side, Quinn thought she could see her opponent stifle a laugh.

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed - did pokémon forget their moves often? The trainer couldn't recall, ironically, but she was fairly certain that amnesia wasn't common in Luxrays and particularly not instantaneously. She sighed noticably, before crying out the name of another move to the stoic pokémon: "Crunch!" The canine made no indication that he had heard. _'Is he deaf?'_ Quinn thought to herself angrily, repeating herself in an even louder voice, "_Crunch!_" There was an almost imperceptible twitch of a furry black ear.

A wave of realisation washed over the young trainer as she looked into the deep brown eyes of her best friend, who had now turned his head towards her. _'You want me to give her a chance, don't you boy?'_ Her expression changed slowly from enraged to thoughtful - she wasn't sure whether to feel betrayed by the creature's actions or touched. While his refusal to fight was irksome, Quinn took it as further proof to what no one else seemed to believe: she and her pokémon had a bond. He was trying to do the best for her, as she tried to do the best for him. She gave a slight nod, one that Luxray recognised as an agreement and he quickly stood. Win or lose, Quinn would talk to her challenger - maybe even befriend her. She knew that, and he knew that. The teenager trusted her pokémon and his judgement more than she trusted herself.

"We don't have to fight if you don't want to," Quinn offered, after a few moments of watching her pokémon from the sidelines. These were the first friendly words she had directed to Rachel Berry. She felt almost like she should be embarrassed by Luxray's unwillingness to fight, particularly after the accusation that her classmate had just made, but she couldn't bring herself to be. He was her pokémon, and she was proud of all of his actions regardless of whether or not she had asked for them. Her lips quirked into the slightest smile and she called across, "It looks like you were right. Maybe my pokémon want to be friends with yours."

Rachel's mouth was set. "But you won't talk to me if I don't."

"An hour. Pick me up tonight, and you have an hour."

Rachel's face split into a wide grin. "Okay."

She quickly programmed her address and number into the other girl's PokéGear, an odd feeling of butterflies overtaking her as she does so. Shaking them off Quinn began to walk away, but paused just at the entrance to the stadium. "Don't bring anyone else."

"I wouldn't dream of it," the brunette admitted, far too quietly for Quinn to hear.


	2. Chapter 2

Although she would be loath to admit it, Quinn spent almost double the time she was going to spend with Rachel getting ready and that same time panicking about what the evening would entail. What did friends actually _do_? Unlike Luxray, Quinn didn't think this companion would settle for nothing more than a belly-rub and a biscuit.

She considered, briefly, asking her parents what friends should do – it was almost instantly that she thought better of it. Neither of them would even believe that she had a friend. The saddest part was that they were right: Rachel was not her friend – they were associates at best. So why, oh why, was she stressing herself so much over nothing at all? She looked over her outfit – it wasn't a great deal different from the one she had worn to school, except a tad less scruffy. A pair of worn grey jeans and an old band t-shirt from a concert she'd been to in Goldenrod, completed, of course, with her trusty pokéball belt. It wasn't an especially classy outfit but what did it matter? It wasn't like this was a date or anything. Far from it. Then why was she so damn nervous?

She pacing round her room for the fourth consecutive time when she heard a complex rhythm beat against her front door – what was wrong with three plain knocks like everyone else? "Hi, I'm here for Quinn?" the teenager heard drift up the stairs, muffled by the closed door, and she tore out of her room and bounded down the stairs like her life depended on it.

"What has she done _this_ time?" she was in time to hear Judy Fabray ask, slurring her words together only slightly despite the almost empty martini glass in her hand. "I swear that girl is nothing but trouble. Quinn. _Quinn!_"

The young trainer winced at her mother's shrill shriek up the stairs, muttering, "I'm right here, mom."

"Don't get lippy with me, Quinn Fabray," the older blonde snapped, taking a hefty swig from her drink. "Why do we have school people here again? I thought we sorted this nonsense."

"Oh, no! I'm not-" Rachel began to explain, but Judy continued to talk to her daughter as though the stranger to her home was no longer there.

"You know what your father said!" the adult warned, brandishing a finger at her daughter, "If, if…sorry, what's your name again?"

"Rachel," the teenager answered, "but-"

"That's right! Rachel! If she came around again, you'd be going to school in Kanto!"

"But Mrs Fabray, I've never been here before."

Judy waved a hand at the information. "Details, details!" She leaned into the brunette conspiratorially and stage-whispered, "The sooner she's gone the better to be honest." Rachel's expression was a mingling of shock and horror – she could never imagine either of her fathers saying such cruel things about her, and especially not in company!

"Mrs Fabray-"

"Don't bother, Rachel," Quinn finally spoke, quietly but without any hint of surprise or upset at her mother's words. "Let's just go." The brunette nodded, glancing between mother and daughter confusedly with her eyebrows furrowed. She had been taught not to be a rude guest, but she had also been taught not to lie – there was no way she could say it had been nice to meet Quinn's mother, but she also couldn't leave without a word.

"It was certainly…interesting to meet you, Mrs Fabray," Rachel offered, but the woman only sniffed without a glance in her direction. The teenager raised a questioning eyebrow at her daughter, but got only a shrug in return. It was almost as though this was nothing out of the ordinary – but then, she supposed it probably wasn't. Following the shrug was a nod towards the door, and so both of the teenagers turned and left – Quinn not uttering a word to her mother.

It was the blonde who first broke the silence once they were at the water's edge, the tense atmosphere having followed them for the whole kilometre walk. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"I'm sorry it happened," Rachel answered back almost immediately, and was met by yet another shrug from Quinn.

"I should've asked you to meet me outside, I just wasn't thinking I guess. I don't usually have…" she had been going to 'friends' but the word seemed to catch on her tongue before she had a chance to spit it out, "people over."

The popular girl nodded understandingly, and Quinn shrugged again. "You are allowed to talk to me, you know," Rachel informed her strangely stoic companion, only half in jest. "I think we could be friends."

There was that word again: friends. What did it mean, that was what Quinn wondered. Would they have slumber parties? Braid each other's hair and talk about boys until the early hours of the morning? It didn't sound at all appealing to Quinn. However, she got the feeling that she shouldn't say that they wouldn't be – something about Rachel told her that they could be close, maybe, if she let down her walls a little. Plus, she also got the feeling that the brunette had a perfect pout to whip out as soon as the need arose. Everything else about her was perfect after all – and she was beginning to resent that less and less.

"Sure," Quinn conceded, not looking at Rachel but at their reflections in the water where she kneeled to swish her fingers through it, "maybe we could be." The watery Rachel beamed widely and joined her on the grass, curling her legs beneath her in a ladylike fashion. Quinn watched with the smallest of smiles – they were so different that this companionship should never ever work, what with Quinn's legs sprawled across the riverbank without a second thought. It should be a sign that that they were doomed to fail from their very beginning; despite her initial instincts, the future champion hoped that they wouldn't be.

They spent hours at the water, sometimes making small talk, other times letting a comfortable silence wash over them. The one hour they had agreed to spend together stretched into three, and then four but Quinn still didn't want to leave. Mostly, she didn't want to go back home to her reality – a friendless life, with only her pokémon for company. Although she was having a wonderful time with Rachel, she couldn't help but have the niggling thought in the back of her mind that the other teenager was doing this only out of sympathy. She probably didn't even like her. That thought made Quinn feel especially, inexplicably sad.

It was midnight before they finally went their separate ways, after spending almost an hour pointing out shapes in the stars. "Look," Rachel had said, bubbling with her usual bright enthusiasm, "there's a psyduck. Oh, and a squirtle!" After a few more minutes of star-gazing and shouting out the wondrous shapes that the night lights brought to her mind, Rachel rolled over to face the blonde girl lying comfortably next to her. "Quinn?"

"Mhmm?" the other girl answered drowsily, bringing the most adorable smile to the brunette's lips.

"What do you see?"

"Where?" she asked, and for the first time Rachel noticed, with a bit of playful annoyance, that her companion's eyes were shut. One eye cracked open and she arched a golden eyebrow skyward, "Oh, are you still going on about all that star shit?"

"Quinn!" Rachel scolded, "This is meant to be a bonding activity!"

The blonde rolled her eyes, but in the end did point them into the heavens. "There, look," she whispered, almost ten minutes later, "a heart."

Rachel squinted this way and that, but eventually had to shake her head. "Nope, Quinn, I just don't see it."

Sighing exaggeratedly, Quinn grabbed Rachel's arm and slowly traced the outline of the heart she had found in the sky. Finally able to see it for herself, she smiled gently as she gazed up at it. "Right above us. What are the chances?"

"Yeah, right," Quinn agreed, instantly tearing her hand away from the other girl's wrist as though it had begun to burn, "what are the chances?"

Rachel was seemingly too busy checking the time on her PokéGear to notice the almost dejected tone to her voice. "Oh shit!" the brunette muttered, the first swear that Quinn had heard her utter, "It's half-past twelve already! Dad and daddy will be so mad."

'_Dad and daddy?' _Quinn thought to herself, but didn't say a word about it. "Yeah, I should getting going too, I guess," she admitted, standing heavily on numb legs before offering her hand to Rachel.

"You guess?" Rachel questioned as she was pulled up, "You mean, your parents don't mind that you're out this late?" As soon as she had asked it, she knew it was a stupid question. Of course Quinn's parents didn't care – Rachel had met one half only a handful of hours before, and had been far from impressed by her parenting skills. Maybe, she concluded, Quinn had reason to be so introverted, no matter how infuriating it was to her.

"No," Quinn answered quietly, "They don't."

Foot meet mouth, Rachel berated inside her head, instantly regretting causing the sadness that crept into her new friend's tone. At least, she thought they were friends.

The walk back to Quinn's house was quiet, but not unpleasantly so. There was the odd mewl of pokémon, or the buzz of Rachel's PokéGear as her parents checked up on her whereabouts – nothing of the sort for Quinn, who would be lucky if her parents had even remembered to leave the door unlocked for her. When they reached the doorstep the first uneasy silence they had experienced crept over them. "So, goodnight then," Rachel managed, although neither of them really wanted to say it.

"Yeah, goodnight," Quinn repeated, staring at the space between them awkwardly – should they hug? The blonde wasn't quite sure. Rachel made the decision for her, wrapping her arms very lightly around her friend's waist as though she wasn't certain it was appropriate. When Quinn reciprocated she relaxed slightly, allowing herself to breathe in the intoxicating scent of her fellow student. After what felt like it could have been an eternity but had really only been a few short seconds, the brunette pulled away from the hug with a slight tint to her cheeks that hadn't been there before. Quinn assumed it was from the cold. "So, I'll see you tomorrow," Quinn said, adding, "at school," though it wasn't really necessary.

"Yeah."

"Save me a seat." The smile Rachel wore almost cut her face in half.

"I had a really good time tonight," the brunette admitted shyly, "Who knew badass Quinn Fabray would be able to find hearts in the sky?"

"I know," agreed the older trainer with a laugh, adding just before she finally shut the door to go inside: "It could have been so romantic."

Rachel sighed as she made her way down the porch steps. "I thought it was," she told the solid oak separating her from the girl she now called a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: These chapters seem to get shorter and shorter. So chapter 4 won't be forthcoming until I have it at at the very least 4000 words. If you want to spur me on to get those written, feel free to leave a review after reading - kind words make me write faster, and your criticisms will (hopefully) improve the writing. (:**

True to her word, as always, Rachel kept the seat next to her empty for Quinn when she arrived. It had surprised her how easy it was to get Finn to agree to move to the back, and sit at the spare desk beside Kurt Hummel. She raised an eyebrow as the pair began to make animated conversation behind her – she didn't know they were friends. Yet they obviously were, Finn's usual dopey words bringing out high-pitched eruptions of laughter from the smaller boy whose eyes sparkled every time the sportsman so much as glanced in his direction. Slowly, the brunette felt her lips tug into a smile; maybe there was more to the two boys than met the eye. She didn't have too long to speculate on it because soon there was a warm body sitting next to her and she turned, grinning fully, to face a grumpy, early morning Fabray like she'd seen on so many school days before. Surprisingly, so much so that even Mr Schuester looked up from his desk and gave Rachel a subtle thumbs up, the blonde was smiling. It wasn't a huge smile, or even particularly warm, but there was something in it – a shy reservation – that made the other student's heart melt instantly.

"Good morning!" Rachel greeted, as soon as she had managed to get her brain and mouth connected again. Several students looked around at the exuberant, chipper display of character with mild disgust – who could be so…_happy_ at this time in the morning?

"Morning," Quinn replied, much less jovially but lacking none of the enthusiasm for seeing her fellow pupil. Her voice was hoarse, a quality that Rachel suspected came from rolling out of bed ten minutes before school began, but still retained its same husky tone from her ordinary speech.

"Thanks for saving me a seat…" the blonde bit her lip, insecurity shining through her the chinks in her tough exterior, "This seat was for me, right?"

Rachel laughed, and nodded. "Yes," she assured her friend, "That seat was for you."

"Good," Quinn said, relieved, and she became more at ease in the situation. "Where's what's his name? Tall guy, funky haircut?"

Rachel laughed again, a sound that brought attention to the pair again from the rest of the class. Quinn felt her ears turn pink – was it something she said? Their fellow students were thinking exactly the same thing – surely it wasn't _Quinn Fabray _making popular and pretty Rachel Berry laugh? It couldn't be possible. "Finn?" asked, once her laughter was again under control, "He's sitting at the back for today."

"Oh," Quinn murmured, glancing around to see where the boy was indeed sitting at the back of the classroom, deep in conversation with a perfectly-quaffed boy whom she didn't know. "So, he didn't mind moving? Even though he's your boyfriend?"

If there had been laughter before, it was nothing compared to the uproarious sound the brunette was making now. "My-my b-boyfriend?" she snorted out between giggles, leaving Quinn feeling stupid and awkward at the sideline. All Rachel seemed to be doing this morning was laughing at her – was she wrong about them being friends? "Sorry, Quinn," Rachel managed, noticing that the blonde didn't really seem to be finding it quite so funny as she did, "I shouldn't laugh but-" The thought was cut off as the girl dissolved into another fit of giggles. "Honestly, Quinn where did you get that idea?"

Quinn shrugged, acutely aware of the fact that all eyes in the room were now on her. "I don't know," she murmured, embarrassed, "you guys just always looked so…"

"Finn's _gay_, Quinn," Rachel informed the girl so out of the social loop.

"Gay?" Quinn semi-whispered, shocked, turning in her seat to look back at the boy undisturbed from his conversation. "And he _tells_ people? ...And they don't hate him?"

Rachel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Uhh, yeah? We don't live in the stone age, Quinn." She couldn't help but feel that this hit home particularly close for the blonde, but she couldn't say how. All she knew was that the girl now had a thoughtful expression, looking down at her notepad on the desk. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Quinn assured with a nod, and a smile slowly spread across her face, "Yeah, I am."

Before Rachel could say another word, Mr Schuester stood and began writing his notes on the blackboard and all conversation had to be left until the end of class. The lesson seemed to drag on even longer than usual for Quinn, now that she had someone she could be talking to during it, and she found herself hard pressed to care about the optimal time to use super potions in order to be cost effective. Rachel, however, was writing everything the teacher said down neatly – colour-coded, in order of helpfulness. She glanced up from her page only once, apparently feeling Quinn's gaze on her; she gave only a quick smile, before returning swiftly to her learning.

The blonde looked down at her jotter, at her own notes. They were an untidy, very barely legible scrawl. Her eyes sneaked across to Rachel's page again – maybe she should use the notes she was given yesterday.

"And remember guys: homework due Monday! A two page essay on the importance of stocking up," Mr Schue said to tie up the lesson, turning to wipe chalk from his clothes before he returned home to Emma. Pupils left the classroom in dribs and drabs, until only Rachel, Quinn and a handful of other students were left present.

"So, do you maybe wanna grab something to eat? Or check out the gym battle on TV? It's an international, from Petalburg," Quinn asked, trying not to show how desperate she was to spend time with the brunette. This whole friend thing was a little addictive, she found.

"Quinn, I'd love to," the blonde's face lit up, "but I have Contest Club." Her features promptly fell.

"Contest Club?" Quinn question, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched, "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously!" Rachel informed her with a laugh as she packed her things away, "We work on the best ways to dress up our pokémon, and teach them to dance and make them learn the prettiest moves we can!"

Quinn couldn't help but smile at the way the brunette's eyes had begun to sparkle, but she still shook her head disbelievingly. "Only you would go to Contest Club."

"No," Rachel disagreed with a pout, "Lots of people go." There was the tiniest trace of genuine hurt in her tone, but it was quickly replaced with pride when she added, "Mr Schue says some people just go to hear me sing." She smiled, running a hand over one of her pokéballs affectionately, "Skitty only dances when I sing."

"Alright, I get it," Quinn said to interrupt Rachel's reverie, with a playful roll of her eyes, "It's great. So, go sing them some…whatever it is you sing, and then maybe call me later?"

"I will, _definitely_, call you later," the singer assured her, while pushing their desks back against the wall to make room for the club.

"Awesome, so I'll see you later, maybe," Quinn said before turning to leave the classroom.

"Definitely," Rachel repeated, now moving another set of desks. "Wait, Quinn…"

"What?" the older trainer asked, pausing on her way out of the building.

"Well, why don't you stay for Contest Club?"

Quinn fought the urge to laugh out loud at the idea, trying to picture her pokémon decked out in contest gear: Luxray with a bow on his tail, Sneasel covered in the several ludicrously coloured pom-poms littering one girl's desk. "Maybe next week?" she tried.

"Definitely next week," Rachel corrected her for the third time.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Definitely next week. Later, Berry."

The brunette grinned at the affectionate use of her last name, and reiterated the sentiment. "Yeah, later."

As Quinn left, she saw Rachel beginning an in-depth discussion with Mr Schuester and watched as the other girl glanced furtively in the direction of the door she had just left through. She had thought they were talking about contests, but now the blonde wasn't so sure. She had the feeling, a gut instinct, that they were talking about her. The question was: _why_?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Verrrrry long time, no update. I'm sorry. D: But, all personal drama dealt with, it shouldn't be long until this story is finished. I hope you enjoy this belated, and shorter than promised, chapter (if you do, you could always leave a review. :'D). **

Since spending time with Rachel, Quinn found that her usual pass times bored her. The GameCube in her room served as very little distraction from the emptiness she felt without having a person around, her computer likewise. Even playing with Luxray, her best friend, didn't bring the same joy it had two days before. Which was how she ended up lying on her bed, her pokémon nuzzled into her chest as she thought back on today's and the previous day's events.

It was unreal that she could feel so attached to someone so quickly – particularly someone that she had been unwilling to talk to in the first place. She supposed it was because it was new – having someone to talk to, someone to care what she had to say and what she did. That had to be it. It absolutely, one-hundred-percent was not because she had a crush on her. That was even more ridiculous than just wanting to be her friend after a day.

"Ridiculous," the blonde muttered aloud, causing Luxray to cock his head up at her curiously, "Totally ridiculous." It was so damn ridiculous, that Quinn was almost tempted to ignore her phone when it jingled a familiar pop rock tune - almost.

"Hello?" she answered, a little breathless from rushing to catch the PokéGear on its final ring.

"Quinn?" the brunette on the other end questioned, "You sound a little…busy?" She chose not to mention that the other girl's heavy breathing did funny things to her stomach.

"Busy? Me? Nope, never busy," Quinn flinched at her ability to make herself sound friendless with the simplest of statements – but then, she _was_ friendless. To her delight, however, her words brought a small tinkle of laughter from the person on the line and Quinn felt her feeling of stupidity alleviate instantly.

"Well, you are now," Rachel assured her, "I'll be at your house in an hour, okay?"

The blonde nodded, before remembering how a phone worked. "Yes," she grinned, "yeah, that's fine."

"Good," the singer said, and Quinn could practically hear the face-splitting smile she always wore through the phone, "Bye, Quinn."

"Bye," Quinn reiterated, unable to keep the goofy grin off of her face. Yes, she was going to like this friend thing. She was sure of it.

And for the next week, like it she did. She found that they were spending every minute together that they could, and Quinn was loving every second of it – she got the impression that Rachel did too. However, she wasn't loving it so much that she didn't grudge being forced into Contest Club.

"It will be fun, Quinn, you'll see!" Rachel said excitedly, and for a split second the rebellious teen almost found her enthusiasm infectious. Then she remembered she was attending _Contest Club_. Other people seemed surprised by this development too – silence enveloped the room as everyone, bar Rachel, turned to stare when they realised that the blonde was still in their midst.

It was Mr Schuester who broke it: "Well…glad you could join us, Quinn!" The teenager was wary, but his smile seemed genuine, and it was soon followed by those of the other club members and their assorted greetings. This brought about her own smile, which in turn widened Rachel's – maybe, just maybe, she could like it here.

After that, people's attention turned away and Quinn instantly felt more at ease – that didn't stop Rachel's fingers slipping gently in between her own and giving a gentle squeeze. This was the third or fourth time the brunette had done so and Quinn still felt her heart race and her palms begin to get sweaty. It was because she wasn't used to the contact. That was all.

Their hands stayed intertwined until Mr Schuester called for someone to demonstrate something new their pokémon had learned, and Rachel jumped quickly to her feet. A few people rolled their eyes good-naturedly, and she beamed at them.

"Uh, this one is Skitty's favourite," Rachel said finally, uncharacteristically shyly, "So I hope you like it." Glancing around, Quinn noticed that she wasn't the only one thrown off by the star's nervousness.

"And you say, go slow – I fall behind," the brunette sang softly, and although she was doing so for the cat pokémon in the centre of the room to dance, Quinn couldn't help but wonder if there was a special message in there for her. "The drum beats out of time." Or maybe she was just thinking too hard.

For the rest of the song, she manages to force herself to hear nothing but the music, Rachel's lilting voice creating beautifully simple melodies in a room that is otherwise silent.

When the song has ended, and both Skitty and her owner have taken a small bow, Rachel takes her seat next to Quinn to scattered applause. Grinning, the blonde leant in to whisper in her ear, "You're a beautiful singer." Rachel's cheeks flushed scarlet, and Quinn feels a strange sense of pride as she turns back to the makeshift stage in the middle of the class.

"Splash," the blonde now doing her own demonstration called out, making her fish pokémon flounder and flail uselessly. "Splash!" People begin to clap politely, and Quinn glances round incredulously – really?

"Wait," the girl told them, dopey smile in place, "I have more." And she did have more – five more magikarp doing the same _stupid _move_._ After ten minutes, Quinn could no longer hold back her growl of frustration and it did not go unnoticed – most people in the room smiled knowingly (it had been their first time too, once upon a time) but one dangerous looking Latina glared across from her seat at a desk across the room while the current performer's lip trembled.

"Oh my god," Rachel muttered under her breath, "You made Brittany cry. You are so, _so_ dead."

"What, is she going to set her _magikarp_ on me?" Quinn asked scathingly, at normal volume. There is a deathly silence over the room, and even the blonde can tell that she's taken this (whatever "this" is) too far.

"No," the latina growls, standing up and staring coldly at the newcomer, "_I'm_ going to kill you."

"Santana, she didn't mean it!" Rachel tried to intervene, to protect her friend, but the girl shook her head.

"She did."

Quinn shrugged, and admitted to the room, "Yeah, I did."

Things happened quickly after that, and before Quinn knew it she could feel the trickle of blood streaming down from her nose. "Ow!" she cried out incredulously, and made to swing her own fist back but it was caught by none other than Rachel Berry.

"Let's go, Quinn," the brunette said, her tone and expression unreadable. 

"But-"

"Let's go."

From the fact that it was taking three people to hold back an angry Santana on the other side of the classroom, Quinn decided that it was probably best to do as she was told on this occasion. For the first time, there was a tense and awkward silence between the pair as they walked and Quinn bit her lip nervously, stealing glances at a girl who refused to look at her.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" the blonde asked sadly, and Rachel instantly felt bad for her coldness when she noted the look Quinn was sporting – it was reminiscent of a kicked puppy.

"Yes. _No_. I-" the singer sighed exasperatedly, "You can't talk to people like that, Quinn."

"Why not?" her companion asked defensively, causing the brunette to sigh again. It was like talking to a five year old.

"Because- Because you just can't!"

Quinn's face fell. "You are mad at me."

Rachel sighed again, and shook her head vehemently. "No, I'm not mad at you." The blonde's face lit up. "But, I am disappointed in you." Her features promptly fell again. The words made a strange, clawing feeling build up in her chest painfully – was that…guilt? Quinn wasn't sure. She wasn't certain it was something she'd felt before.

"Don't pull that face," the singer chastised , quickly noticing the pout that had settled itself on Quinn. "Go home, and I'll come to your house later. Okay?"

The other teenager nodded her agreement. Yes. She had to redeem herself, she had to. Her world would feel empty until she had. Wheels were already turning in her mind as to how she could fix her relationship with Rachel…Relationship? Quinn's mind didn't even want to go there. Not yet. She didn't know if it ever would.

When Rachel arrived at the Fabray home, she found her visit to be much less eventful than the last one. There was no run-in with the older Fabrays, no sign of withdrawal from Quinn and no more palpable tension between them. What little there had been was worn away by the hours that they spent apart.

As they walked along the riverbank, a tradition in the making, Quinn voiced the question that had been running through her mind since Contest Club. "The latina…what's her name?"

"Santana," Rachel filled in helpfully so that the other girl could finish her enquiry.

"Right, Santana. Why did she get so mad about that dumb chick anyway?"

"Quinn, her name is Brittany," Rachel scolded, but the blonde found that she didn't mind – the way that the other girl mothered her was…endearing, she supposed.

"Brittany," the trainer corrected herself, purely to appease her friend, "why did she get so mad about Brittany?"

Rachel laughed, a sound that brought a horde of tiny butterflies to Quinn's stomach. "You honestly can't tell?" Seeing that the other girl looked confused, the brunette laughed further. She honestly couldn't tell. "They're together."

"Together?" Quinn repeated incredulously, "As in, _together_ together? Is everyone in that damn school gay?"

Rachel shrugged with a sheepish smile, "Some of us."

It wasn't until Quinn got home that she realised what that meant.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, almost a year since my last update. I don't really know what to say. I could apologise, but I don't regret the things I did in this almost a year. So I suppose I'll just post this next chapter and hope that you guys forgive my absence enough to read it – if anyone even remembers it, at all. If it helps, I used to be Rainbombz. :'D But now, onto the (veryveryvery belated) Christmas present that is chapter 5 of Project For Improvement. Enjoy, ladies and gents. I hope it lives up to any expectations (and I'm sorry if it doesn't, because I haven't written anything properly in a long time).**

**Reviews are nice (I can't believe I've still been getting them every once in a while during my hiatus!) so you can feel free to leave one if you're: happy about my return/angry with me and prepared to leave abuse/reading for the first time and completely unaware of my absence. Thank you!**

Quinn's mind was reeling as she tore through her wardrobe, disregarding item after item even more harshly than she had the first time she had gone out with Rachel. "Gone out". Quinn snorted. She fucking wishes. Oh, god, she actually wishes. What the hell had gotten into her in the past few days? What was that perfect little princess of a pokémon trainer doing to her? She had…what was the platonic term? Hung out. She had hung out with Rachel Berry. Nothing more. Not ever anything more.

Still, there was no harm in…thinking about it. Was there? Of course not. With a sigh, the blonde reminded herself that that was exactly how she had felt about looking, and look where that had gotten her. A crush on the best friend she had never had. There was no denying it. Not anymore. Quinn Fabray was a lesbian. Whether she liked or not.

Not so long ago, she would have opted for "not" – but things were changing now. It was fast, and it was scary – god, it was fucking terrifying – but it was freeing , like a sudden but silent empowerment: the tall gangly guy, the latina bitch and the dumb chick from the hell that was Contest Club. All gay. Not to mention Rachel. _Rachel_. Well, so it was inferred. Quinn didn't really know for sure. She didn't even know if she wanted to. The star "batting for her team" (a phrase she had heard on the few lesbian shows she got away with watching in the secrecy of the night while her parents slept unawares) was something that made Quinn almost inconceivably happy and sad.

Yes, it meant that in theory, she had a chance – but that was the mistake that everyone in the world with no experience made, wasn't it? If two people are lesbians they must work as a couple, because they have that in common. Quinn was one of the few inexperienced homosexuals who knew better than that. Two straight people didn't automatically fall in love, did they? It was all about the people. In this case, it was all about Quinn. That fact just shot all her chances to hell.

Who, in their right mind, would take an interest in a girl with no friends? A fucked up family? A girl who had taken every one of their attempts at kindness and thrown them back in their fucking face? Not Quinn. That meant not Rachel either. The young trainer slammed her wardrobe doors in disgust, turning and sliding down them into a slumped heap on the floor. With her head in her hands, she let a few tears escape her eyes for the first time in a long time. Who was she kidding? She had nothing to offer Rachel. _Nothing. _She was lucky the diva wanted to be her friend.

After drying her eyes with the bottom of her shirt, Quinn let out a frustrated breath and leaned back so that her head hit the doors with a resounding clunk. She was lucky and it was time to start acting like it.

Just as the teenager finished pulling a clean hoodie over her head, she heard the tell-tale rhythm that meant her new friend was at the door. A glance at her watch revealed that the visitor was five minutes early, but she didn't mind. She would treasure the extra time as though it was her very last on earth.

"Hi," Quinn greeted the brunette as the door swung open, hoping that her previously piteous mood wasn't evident in her tone. She stepped out of the house quickly, closing the heavy oak equally so. The last thing she wanted was for her parents to make things more awkward than they already were. "Walk with me?" Without waiting for a response, Quinn took off – her feet worked with little thought, leading her towards the same river they had spent the every night previous week lying alongside. Had it really only been a week? How quickly things changed. For someone like Quinn, someone who was used to the same constant routine, it was quite disconcerting. Almost cripplingly so. How was she supposed to know how to feel about her feelings for Rachel when she didn't even know how to feel?

"I-" the teenager began but stopped abruptly, walking the next few steps in obstinate silence. Her eyes flickered over to her companion, whose own brown eyes were just looking at her with a puzzled expression, her brow furrowed. It was adorable really, but that was the last thing Quinn wanted to focus on. Realising that Rachel would say nothing until she finished her statement, the blonde swallowed nervously and then continued. "I'm sorry."

The words felt strange. She couldn't recall ever saying them before, and she wasn't sure she liked the feeling. It seemed to grip her chest, squeezing her heart in a vicelike hold until her crush found the words to say. As it turned out, the beaming grin she received eased the pressure just as well. "Quinn!" the girl squealed, wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist. "I'm so proud of you."

The exclamation made her feel the tiniest bit foolish. Was she really such a lost cause that people were proud of her for performing basic human interactions? Apparently so. For a moment, she let herself get lost in the warmth of the singer's hug. If that was the price of this, well, she could deal with that.

From there, their relationship seemed to instantly fall back to where it had soared over the past eight days of quality time they had spent. They laughed, they joked and, once they reached their special spot, tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and talked. Talked about everything and nothing at all. It was something that Quinn was slowly growing used to experiencing – someone being interested, and caring what she had to say. The first few times, it had struck her as strange; surreal. Now, she took it in her stride, enjoying sharing her deepest darkest secrets (of which there were few, given her limited experience of the world) with the other girl. There was just one that Quinn wasn't sure how to broach – and Rachel could tell.

"Spill."

"What? I'm not drinking anything," Quinn said, looking suitably bemused. It caused Rachel to laugh heartily, and again the blonde felt torn between feeling glad that she could make the other girl so happy and disheartened that it was at her own expense.

"No, Quinn. _Spill_. As in, tell me what you're thinking about," came the explanation, once all giggles had subsided.

"Oh. Nothing."

"Quinn." All hint of merriment gone, Rachel raised a hand and brought it to the shoulder of the girl who lay opposite her. "I can tell you're worried about something, and that makes me worried about you. Please tell me?" The older trainer sighed. It was now or never.

"What do normal people do when they have a crush on someone?"

Rachel was so taken aback by the question that she didn't know which part she should tackle first. After a second, she decided she would start with the one that made her feel the most guilty but the least awful. "Quinn, you are a normal person."

The blonde gave a harsh laugh. "No. No I'm not."

"You ar-"

"No, I'm not!" For the first time since the awkward start to their friendship, Quinn snapped at the other girl with nothing short of pure, unadulterated aggression. She abruptly rolled onto her back, both because she couldn't stand to see the hurt in her friend's eyes and because she didn't want Rachel to see the tears beginning to well in hers'. When her she spoke again, her voice was softer but held the same definitive, but dejected, conviction. "I'm a freak."

The brunette reached out to pull the broken girl into her arms but was forced to stop when she saw the girl flinch as though she was about to be hit. "Quinn…" Rachel tailed off. She had no idea what to say. None whatsoever. Her classmate was obviously hurting so much, and she had never seen it before. She had never thought about how much every rejection in the girl's life must have crushed her. Crushed every part of her. Oh god.

The diva could feel tears spill over and roll down her cheeks, but there was no time to focus on her own despair. That was what she had been doing all her life. Had Quinn really held up such a perfect wall that she seemed not to care a bit about being ostracised, or had none of them looked hard enough? Goddamnit, she was such an idiot. "Quinn, come here." This time, no effort was made to prevent Rachel from scooping her into her arms – instead the blonde threw her arms around her best friend and buried her face into her neck. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm so sorry." The older girl didn't have to ask why.

Once Rachel was finally confident it was safe to do so, with Quinn's sobs having mellowed into soft breaths that tickled the skin of her neck in a surprisingly pleasant way, she stopped the gentle circles she was tracing on the girl's back with her palm and pulled away to look into her eyes. "Why were you so worried about some little crush, hm?"

It took a moment for Quinn to respond, and when she did Rachel's sympathy grew even further – and her guilt, knowing that how the blonde had turned out was down to herself and her peers. Her parents, of course, were also to blame – but the pokémon academy's pupils could have made it better. They could have made her life better, they could have showed her the beautiful things in life. Instead, Quinn had spent seventeen years all alone and it broke Rachel's heart.

"It's more than a little crush," the would-be pokémon master admitted. "I really really like her."

"Her?" Rachel cocked an eyebrow coolly on the outside while inside her heart beat rapidly against her ribcage. "Who's the lucky girl then?"

"Just this girl," Quinn remarked flippantly, "but it doesn't matter. She'd never be with someone like me. She's really something. Everyone likes her – she could choose anyone in Lima. Hell, anyone in Ohio. Why would she want me?"

"Why wouldn't she want you?" Rachel asked, freeing a hand from their embrace to tuck some blonde hair behind her friend's ear. "You're smart. You're funny." She paused. "You're beautiful. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

"Didn't you hear me?" the other trainer asked sadly. "She could have anyone."

"Why would she want anyone when she could have you?"

Slowly, Quinn's eyes rose to meet Rachel's. "You mean that?" For once, her voice was timid and unsure.

"Of course I do. She'd have to be really high maintenance not to think you're everything she could ever need."

Quinn laughed a little, the first sign of happiness she'd given since the evening's slight turn for the worse. "She is a little high maintenance, I think – but it's kind of cute."

Rachel smiled sadly at the true feelings her friend seemed to have for this other girl. She wanted Quinn to be happy…she just really wanted her to be happy with her. "You should just ask her, you know. What's the worst that's going to happen if she doesn't like you too?"

"I'll lose everything."

"Just try," Rachel urged. "That's what most," she pointedly avoided the word normal, "people would do. Kiss her."

The next thing Rachel felt were soft lips on hers'.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It's okay everyone, you can stop pinning up missing posters—it's me again! I'd like to thank my most recent reviewer for giving me the inspiration I needed to finish this story and I'm sorry to anyone who I have disappointed with my absence. It's been a really hectic time in my life (and although it's no secret, I won't bore you with the details) but I am now in my break from uni and I hope to use it to finish this story once and for all. A huge thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and my writing since this fic was first published in 2010. I hope that I can finally live up to your expectations. Your feedback is appreciated, whether it's good or bad. Now, please enjoy the long awaited Chapter 6 of Project for Improvement.**

The first thing Quinn felt as their lips parted was Rachel's palm connecting with her face, leaving her with a faint stinging sensation and tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

"I am not high maintenance!" the brunette exclaimed indignantly, her touch on the other girl's face softening into a gentle caress from a playful slap. It was only then that she noted her companion's expression. "Oh, Quinn..." her hand moved from its position, her thumb slowly stretching out to wipe away the signs of Quinn's sadness. "I'm sorry." She truly was; in her haste to make a silly joke— a joke that was supposed to make the blonde feel at ease—she had crushed what little self confidence she possessed. There had to be a way for her to fix this: and quickly, before the look on Quinn's face succeeded in tearing a hole through her heart. "Come here," she murmured, her free hand grabbing a fistful of shirt and pulling the other girl's body flush against her own—she silently thanked god that she had been allowed to do so. Her right hand, hardly having moved since its monumental mistake, snaked around Quinn's neck and was swiftly tangled in the messy blonde locks that fell around her shoulders. With reckless abandon, their lips were forced together and both girls let out a soft moan that drifted away on the wind: Rachel's laced with hunger and Quinn's surprise.

For it only being the second kiss in her short life, the older teen felt she was doing quite well. She had mostly decided that it was best to go with the flow, allowing the younger girl to lead—from the noises that the brunette was making, the ones that lit a fire in her belly that was quickly working its way south, it was safe to say that it had been a good choice. Several long seconds passed, feeling to Quinn like both forever and no time at all, as their mouths moved in sync and gradually slowed to a reluctant stop. Their foreheads met, laboured breathing the only evidence the pokémon trainer had that she wasn't in a brilliantly elaborate dream. Truth be told, it was better than anything she could have ever imagined: it was real.

"I'm sorry," broke through the silence for a second time, but she shook her head. For the moment, words still escaped her. "I should have known better than to-" the singer tried to continue but was again cut off by a movement from Quinn, this time a gentle hand pressing an index finger to the pouting lips she had been kissing mere moments before.

"It's okay."

"But-"

"It's okay," the girl repeated, fully intent on doing so until her affirmation sunk in. "It's really okay. You just caught me off guard, that's all. I'm not really good at this..."

"Could have fooled me," Rachel responded, her bruised lips spreading into a sly grin which Quinn happily returned.

Although she knew she would come to regret it, the future champion stole a glance at the silver watch adorning her wrist. It was only a few minutes shy of ten o'clock but Quinn still clambered to her feet, extending a careful hand to assist Rachel to her own. "We're leaving already?" Rachel asked, her brows furrowed in both confusion and disappointment. "I thought we were doing well."

Quinn wasn't quite sure what that last sentence meant but now didn't seem like quite the time to broach it. "We're doing swimmingly," the blonde quipped, although she had no idea of what that meant either. "I just want to make sure I get you home to your parents on time tonight—I'm hoping that maybe, if I'm more responsible, they'll let me date their daughter."

"Oh yeah?" said daughter asked with a delighted laugh, "Does she get a say in this?"

"Of course," the taller of the two confirmed, casually linking their hands together, "But I'm pretty sure she'll say yes. I've been told I'm quite a catch."

A bubble of laughter rippled up Rachel's throat and burst out onto the night air. This was the real Quinn; the Quinn she had feelings for. This was the Quinn who made silly jokes with false bravado, the Quinn who was brimming with well-placed confidence. This was the Quinn who no one else knew.

Much sooner than either girl wanted, they made it to the front door of the Berry household. Through the window they could see the men of the family cuddled on the sofa, their attention glued to the TV that lit the entire room with a faint glow. Quinn took this to mean it was a good time to make her move and she glued her hands to the shorter girl's hips, slowly but surely pushing her against the bright red door that seemed to correspond with her view of the younger girl perfectly. Vibrant. With barely even a pause for breath, their lips collided—initial innocent pecks were exchanged but soon neither girl could contain her hunger and for the first time, Quinn Fabray's teeth grazed the perfect, pouting lips she had been infatuated with for days. Rachel's groan filled her mouth, only encouraging the animalistic urges that the brunette's every movement brought to the surface. Quinn didn't feel like anything in the world could ruin this moment, as she revelled in the feel of her crush's mouth melding with her's—and then the door opened and all of her optimism came, literally, tumbling to the ground.

"I told you I heard something, LeRoy," the man at the door grumbled, not unpleasantly, to his partner whose head was poking out from behind the living room door to observe the commotion. "You never listen to me."

"I stand corrected, Hiram," the older gentleman placated his husband, his eyes flickering amusedly over the tangle of limbs blocking the front door. Meanwhile, Quinn Fabray flushed a brilliant shade of crimson that allowed her to blend effortlessly with the door she lay next to; oh how she wished that she could genuinely disappear. Her companion also blushed, although significantly less so.

"Well, this is not how I had imagined this meeting. Dad, Daddy: to the living room!" the two adults did as they were told, slinking off almost ashamedly into the other room. "Honestly, they're like children!" the brunette told the blonde with an eyeroll, although she truly seemed to traumatised to care. "If you would kindly accompany me, Quinn?" she requested, picking herself and dusting herself off. Quinn looked like that was the last thing on earth she wanted to do, her wide eyes betraying her instinct to run away and never look back, but she nodded despite herself. Rachel smiled. Quinn couldn't help but feel it was worth it.

When they entered the room where the two Berry fathers sat like chastised children, the blonde found her eyes firmly rooted to the floor. "Dad, Daddy—this is Quinn. We go to school together."

"We know, honey, you've been talking about her all week."

It was Rachel's turn to clamp her mouth shut in embarrassment, glaring silently at her dad as Quinn felt the smallest of smiles tug at her lips.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Fabray—we've heard a lot about you."

The teenager willed herself to find something pleasant and endearing to say but no words would come; she could only nod.

"Well, then," Rachel said, flustered beyond belief, "I suppose Quinn better head off home. We have school in the morning, you know!" The brunette began to usher her new friend out of the room as quickly as they had entered it, no longer keen on spending any more time than necessary with her parents—why she had ever thought that was a good idea she would never know.

"You have two minutes, Rachel," Hiram called after their retreating forms pseudosternly, "We'll be counting!"

With another flamboyant eyeroll, Rachel flounced out of the room and through the hallway onto the porch with Quinn in tow. "Despite everything, I had a really great time tonight," she admitted, smiling coyly. Her companion was quick to agree.

"Me too." There was a slight pause. "I really like you, y'know."

The diva smiled, "I know, Quinn. I really like you too."

"Ten, nine, eight..." the pair heard being called from inside the house and Rachel huffed her discontentment.

"So I'll see you at school tomorrow then?"

"Of course. Save me a seat?"

"Of course," Rachel echoed and, just as her father reached 'one', she leaned forward to place a gentle peck on Quinn's lips. "I can't wait."

The door swung open dramatically, both Hiram and LeRoy standing there with silly smiles on their faces. "Ahh, to be young and in love!" the latter proclaimed, hand over his heart.

A dark eyebrow arched on the other man's face, "And what is that supposed to mean?"

LeRoy smiled sheepishly and quickly corrected himself, "Ahh, to be young!"

Quinn found herself amused by their antics and decided that, for all their eccentricities, she was quite taken with the Berry men—and if their expressions were any indication, they seemed to like her too. Everything had turned out much better than she expected and when she finally forced herself to turn and take her first step down the stairs, it was with a much lighter heart than she had ever had before. Not even her parents could bring her down now, no matter how little they made her house feel like home. Not so long as she always had Rachel Berry's arms; they were what she would call home.

"Quinn!" The blonde in question turned on her heel, having just set foot on the gravel path leading her back to the road. Her eyes found Rachel's, where she stood huddled between her parents. In typical, over-the-top Berry fashion a kiss made its way across the air and Quinn caught it lovingly in her palm before pressing it to her lips. With Rachel's blush and her fathers' laughs, she knew she had done well. The smile couldn't be wiped off of her face for the whole walk home—helped, of course, by the incessant texts they sent back and forth until both decided to crawl under their respective covers and say good night.

When the blonde's bleary eyes finally opened the following morning, it was to check the PokéGear by her bedside in the hopes of finding a greeting from the girl who had spent all night in her dreams.

**Rachel (1.45pm): I understand if you have regrets but that's no reason to compromise your education. Please Quinn.**

The teenager was suddenly drowned by a wave of dread. What time was it? A quick glance at the status bar on the device in her hand told her it was three o'clock—there was only an hour left before school ended for the day. Fuck.

Scrolling down to the first message her crush had sent, Quinn read through them all. Each one made her feel worse.

**Rachel (8:31am): Good morning sunshine! I can't wait to see you today.**

**Rachel (9:03am): Running late, sleepyhead? Don't worry, I've saved you a seat.**

**Rachel (10:17am): Quinn, is everything okay? I didn't mean to put undue pressure on you last night.**

**Rachel (11:07am): Quinn?**

**Rachel (12:00pm): I don't know what I did but I'm sorry.**

**Rachel (1:11pm): I get that you don't want to talk to me right now, but maybe you could just give me a text later and let me know you're safe. I'm worried about you.**

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck. Every message she read left Quinn feeling more desperate than the last. She had to fix this. Now. Clothes were thrown on at break neck speed and before she knew it, the trainer found herself hurtling down the stairs and out of the door. Her bike lay against the pole at the bottom of their garden, abandoned there from days before, and she quickly grabbed it and jumped on. She had never been the best of cyclists but today she flew down the road at the speed of an Olympic champion: she had no choice—nothing had ever been more important than this. Nothing would ever be more important in her life than Rachel Berry. Their friendship was short but she was sure of it.

She arrived at the entrance to the school with just five minutes to spare, or so a glance at her PokéGear told her. It also told her their was a final new message sent while she was riding.

**Rachel (3:47pm): I thought we had something, Quinn. Don't we?**

"We do," the blonde told the device under her breath, as she slid it back into her pocket, "Of course, we do. I promise."

The bell rang at four o'clock promptly and all Quinn could do was pace anxiously back and forth as she waited for Rachel to vacate their classroom. It seemed that everyone but her friend was spilling out through the doors, unleashing their pokémon for the trek home. Where they hell was she?

Finally, just as Quinn was getting ready to give up and go, the door opened one last time and out walked one Miss Rachel Berry. It didn't take the blonde long to deduce what had happened: her red rimmed eyes made that a dead give away.

"Rach."

The brunette's head snapped up instantly, her face torn between disbelief and annoyance.

"'Rach'? You have me worried sick all day and all you have to say is 'Rach'?" The diva knew she was being unreasonable but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She didn't spend all day worrying just to throw herself into the girl's arms and tell herself everything would be all right—no matter how much every fibre in her body willed her to do so. Within seconds, she had unleashed her pidgeotto from its pokéball and given it the instruction to fly home. "I don't want to talk to you right now, Quinn." With that she was gone; merely a shadow on the horizon.

"Goddamnit," the future champion growled, kicking at a rock lying by her feet. "God fucking damnit."

Her hands instantly reached for her PokéGear and opened a blank message but she soon shook her head. There was nothing she could think of to say.

It was several hours later that Quinn's phone finally rang out with a text notification. She dived on it instantly.

**Rachel (7:23pm): After much deliberation and a consultation with my fathers, I have to come to the conclusion that I must concede that my reaction this afternoon may have been irrational. Consequently, I am willing to hear what you have to say.**

Quinn had to smile despite herself; Rachel was adorably verbose when annoyed.

**Quinn (7:26pm):** **Rachel, I am so sorry. I couldn't sleep last night, I was way too excited to see you again. I must have slept in. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to make you worry, I promise.**

**Rachel (7:26pm): Baby? (:**

Quinn flushed instantly upon reading Rachel's words. She must have hit send before she had fully proof-read the message. She couldn't deny that the words just seemed to trip off the tongue (and onto the keyboard, as a result). All manner of gooey things that Quinn Fabray would never have dreamt of saying not two weeks ago all seemed to want to fall out of her mouth at the sight of Rachel Berry. She wasn't sure if that was a bad thing.

**Quinn (7:27pm): That's all you got from that? Really?**

**Rachel (7:28pm): What can I say? You're quite the charmer.**

**Quinn (7:28pm): Does that mean you want to meet me in the usual place? Twenty minutes?**

**Rachel (7:29pm): I don't know, are you going to show up this time?**

**Quinn (7:30pm): Well, I'm not planning a nap so...**

**Rachel (7:30pm): I'll be there, butthead.**

'Butthead', Quinn mimed to herself with a shake of her head. It wasn't quite as endearing as 'baby' but she would take it. It was better than the many variations of the conversation that had played in her head in the few hours they hadn't spoken: most ending in 'Go fuck yourself.'

It seemed to take hours for the brunette to arrive by the water where they had shared their first kiss. Quinn had arrived there mere minutes after they had agreed to meet and could now do nothing but, again, anxiously await Rachel. It seemed to be becoming a theme. She was just getting ready to do her twelfth retread of the small area they had made their own when she felt a pair of gentle hands wrap around her from behind. Instantly her troubles seemed to fall away as she melted into the shorter girl's embrace.

"Don't ever do that to me again."

"I won't."

Before anything else could be said, Rachel spun the blonde around and pulled her into their most passionate kiss yet. Once again, Quinn was home.


End file.
